Dont Stop Now
by Blasen
Summary: More than friends and more than family. America had only ever loved two people in such a way. RussiaxAmerica and one-sided EnglandxAmerica? Plotless. Oneshot.


**Oneshots are additctive. Hopefuly, I will have everything updated by next week.**  
**Im just going to update everything all together.**  
**I heard this song on the radio a couple of days ago and I just can't get it out of my head. It works really well with the pairing.**  
**Song: The Maine- Dont Stop Now.**

_Well where I come from, you learn to take it nice and slow._

_But, baby, since we met, oh, it's been go, go, go._

"Ivan." America brushed the snow off from his gloves.

"Hm?" Russia responded and pulled his scarf tighter around his neck. Not caring about the fact he was covered in snow, and would get even further devoured in it, walked over Alfred and pulled the country close. He would argue later that it was because he was cold. He was simply trying to get warm again. Though, he knew from experience that America would not believe him. Russia had trouble believing it himself.

_So you can rough me up (you can rough me up), yeah, baby, you can hurt me too._

_Because all I got (all I got), you see, I got is you._

"What are we doing?" America asked, and turned his face to look at Ivan, locking their eyes. Russia nearly pulled away from the other nation. Yes, Alfred was looking at him, but it seemed like those eyes were unfocused. Hazey. Blazed over with something that made it seem like there was nothing in them. Those azure orbs held nothing in them, as far as Russia could tell.

"What do you mean Alfred?" With his reaction, America shifted away from Ivan and drifted his gloved hand in the snow, turning his fingers numb again, while the other hand pulled at his hat.

"I mean _this_. All of it. What do we think were doing, Ivan? This is impossible. Our people are at war. You know what that means. It means we are supposed to be at war too. This is...this is impossible." His voice drifted off somberly as the wind picked up again, blowing his now loose hat away and into a pile of snow. He looked away from Russia and let out a deep huff, showing his breath in the crisp air, he wiped the new drops of snow off of his damp bright hair.

_You can rough me up, you can break me down._

_Baby, don't stop now._

"America. Alfred. Look at me," Ivan pulled at America's cold jacket, but Alfred still resisted and tried to pull away, "look at me!" Russia's voice turned to a dangerously angry tone. The snow and cold forgotten, Ivan gripped America's jacket and twisted the nation's figure around so that their eyes could lock once more. Alfred's still held that same emptiness. Hollow. Dead. Gone.

"Ivan, it's im-" Russia would not let him say that word again.

"Shut up and listen to me, Alfred! It is not impossible. But nobody said it was going to be easy. You don't ever say that we are impossible again. Do you understand?" Russia yelled at him, his grip so tight on the other nation's jacket it was starting to tear at the seams.

"Do you understand?" He yelled again, his eyes seeping into Alfred's, trying to cause the light to fill the once more. America looked down and away from Russia, letting a small smile twitch his lips up.

"Da." Alfred replied in Russia's language. Satisfied by his answer, Ivan pulled away from America's now stretched out jacket. The wind nipped at his cheeks while he twirled his finger in the snow as a silence crept between them.

_I'm all yours. I'm all yours somehow..._

_Baby, don't stop now._

America stood after a minute or two, and quickly shuffled his way through the blanket of snow to his hat. He pulled the cap back over his head to cover his slightly frost-bitten ears and then made his way back to Ivan.

"I have to go. If I'm going to make it back in time for the meeting tomorrow." Alfred said.

"I know." Russia got to his feet as well. He pulled America close and was delighted by the sudden warmth. He laid a kisses on the younger nation's jaw line, moving his way up to Alfred's nose and fore-head. Both of them forgetting that they were ever cold in the first place.

_So, where I come from, you learn to make the best of things._

_But honey, since we met, you know you've had the best of me._

_So you can lock me up_

At the meeting the day after, England and America managed to start a terrible argument. The intensity of the snaps being passed back and forth between the two nations caused all the others to be silent and watch.

"You bloody git! Do you understand what you are getting your self into? How much audacity to you have? Preposterous! Ludicrous! You blooming idiot!"

"Would you shut up already? If you haven't noticed, I don't care what you say, England! Scream all you want it's not going to make a difference. Im not backing away from this." Alfred hissed back, causing the other nations to really be frightened. America was loud. Reckless. He voiced all of his arguments in bold anger...but when his voice turned into a hiss, when his eyes grew the dangerous gleam of a cold intensity, that was when they were terrified. It was the moment that America is at his most violent. His most unraveling. His most malicious.

_Yeah, baby throw away that key, because all I know_

_Is that this is where I want to be._

"I'm just looking out for you America. Your going to be hurt. Is it really worth it?" Arthur lowered solemnly. America looked out of the window to stare at the rain pour.

"It's always worth it."

The room remained silent for several more minutes before Germany stood.

"Time is up." He grunted and walked out with the Axis, as many did the other countries, deciding it was better to be out in the torrent of rain then in the conference room.

_You can rough me up, you can break me down._

_Baby, don't stop now. Oh, you can use me up, till it all runs out._

_I'm all yours. I'm all yours somehow._

"Alfred-"

"Dont even start." America pushed in his chair and walked over to Arthur.

"Don't worry about me. War is easy, remember?" Alfred added and smiled.

"But, Alfred-"

"I was raised from war. I aged in war. I live in war. I'll win." He said, cutting off England's protests once more.

"Just be careful. I cant stand to loose you a third time." England responded in defeat, and involuntarily moved closer to his ex-colony.

"You got it Arthur." America said with a smile.

_You can rough me up, you can break me down._

_Baby, don't stop now. Oh, you can use me up, till it all runs out._

_Baby, don't stop now._

The week after, America found himself next to Russia again. He couldn't stay away. Alfred knocked on the door, holding the banquet of hand picked sunflowers in his hand as the snow pelted him. The wind hissed in his ears as he waited for Ivan to open the door and involuntarily sniffed.

"Alfred?" Russia asked and opened the door to reveal a snow bitten America holding a group of bright sunflowers dappled in snow. Taken back by the sweet gesture, Russia nearly forgot to shut the door once America came in from the cold.

"I was hoping you would like these. They may not be the brightest you've ever had, but they sure are healthy." America stated and handed the golden flowers to Ivan then taking a comfortable seat in front of the fire place. Russia quickly set the plant down and made his way over to Alfred, sitting down next the nation with rosey cheeks. America raised and eye brow and brought a hand up to tap Ivan's face.

"Are you cold? Your cheeks are really red. I could make you some hot chocolate," He said and pointed in the direction of the kitchen.

"Da. That would be great." Russia responded, "I am a little cold." He added, however, a lie. Alfred smiled and touched foreheads with the older nation, bringing his hand up behind Russia, he pulled Ivan closer and ran his fingers along the back of his head, entwining his fingers in Russia's silver hair. As soon as it had begun, America stopped and stood up.

"Now you shouldn't be that cold anymore, but I'll still make you that hot chocolate." America smirked and made his way to the kitchen.

_Baby don't stop now. You can rough me up,_

_You can break me down. Baby, don't stop now. Oh, you can use me up_

_Till it all runs out, baby don't..._

_Hey!_

After coming back with the hot chocolate and a bottle of vodka, as well as drinking them, then settling down for the night, Russia yawned and placed another log in the fire. America was already bringing a blanket out from the closet, creating himself a bed on the couch. Russia, however, found that particularly for this night, that it was unnecessary. When Ivan reached the steps to the second level of the house, he turned back to America.

"Alfred. Would you like to sleep in an actual bed tonight?" He asked and motioned to the stairs. America smiled and walked over.

"I'm not sure. I love this blanket and your couch is pretty comfortable..." America teased. Russia reamined complete composure for a short instant and then was pulling Alfred by his shirt collar up the stairs. Nearly falling over his own feet, America made it up the stairs in one piece before being pushed onto a large bed. His eyes still adjusting to the darkness, he could hear Russia over to the left side of the bed.

"Comfortable yet?" He heard Ivan snicker and take his place on the bed.

"Wait." Alfred could hear Ivan stiffen as he said the words. America shifted towards the other nation's voice and grabbed onto what he suspected to be Russia's hand and yanked the nation close. Taking his opportunity, Alfred wrapped his arm around Ivan and smiled.

"_Now_ Im comfortable." He said and laid his head on the pillow. America could feel Russia's heart pounding from being so close to him, and was happy to know that he was the only one that could cause such a reaction. That was of course, besides Belarus.

_You can rough me up, you can break me down. _

_Baby, don't stop now._

The next morning, Russia was unsurprised to wake up to a cold bed. Alfred must have left in the middle of the night. The younger nation usually did whenever he came to Ivan's house. Why? Russia didn't know. But he didn't bother to ask either. America was a nation. The nation of the brave, because of this, in Russia's eyes, Alfred was not required to take on the activities and similarities that normal nations would have. Ivan pushed himself to sitting postion in his bed, and a flash of light caught the corner of his eyes. Turning his head to his bedside table, he found the sunflowers from the night before laid neatly on the desk. With a smile, Russia stood and picked up one flower.

"Сладкий Америке," He sighed, "Сладкий Америке." Placing the flowers back down on the desk he made his way down stairs. From the silence, Russia's thoughts strayed back to the war. It was indeed a cold war. He refused to hurt America, not America's people. Though, that would in turn hurt America in the process. He cared for his people so deeply. Russia had tryed his best to keep his military superiors from bombing Alfred. He would keep doing so until the war ended. He could not allow such an event to happen. But, he could also not allow America to denounce his people's way of life. Why did he ever fall in love with a man who was obsessed over the thought of freedom? That was right. The nation was just to charming to resist.

With a huff, he opened a bottle of vodka, and after draining it's contents, he added a few more logs to the fire. But, the flames were a poor subsititusion for the warmth he would have obtained if America was still in his home.

_Oh, you can use me up till it all runs out._

_Baby, don't stop now._

America rushed to the meeting room and took his seat next to England, his papers ready, surprisingly, with rational ideas and peace ensuing compromises. He wanted this war to end as quickly as possible.

"Your late again." England stated.

"I know. Traffic at the air port was ridiculous." America responded and ran a shaky hand through his dulling blonde hair.

"You look bloody awful." Arthur said took this moment to look over his ex-colony. Dark circles were under those now dull azure eyes, and his skin seemed paler then usual. His once shimmering blonde hair had lost it's brightness and was disheveled. His hands were shaking involuntarily as he tried to hold his pen and write his name on one of the papers. He looked thinner as well. When was the last time he's eaten? Alfred's clothes were no better. Ruffled and his shirt only half way tucked in, his jacket was nearly falling off his shoulders. What was happening to him?

"America. You need to rest. You can not be here. Look at you!" Arthur said and laid a hand on Alfred's shaking one.

"No way England. I'm fine. Really. I just haven't eaten in a little while. Once I finish this meeting I'll go get something. Just relax. We really need to deal with these issues first." He replied and gave up on trying to write correctly. England could tell the younger nation was trying desperatly to keep his shoulders from shuddering. He looked at the rest of the nations, and then back at Alfred.

"Excuse us." England said and pulled America out of the room and into the hallway.

"Arthur! Let go! I need to discuss-" Alfred started but England was not up for his protests.

"No. You listen to me here, United States of America. You need to take care of yourself. Your falling apart and I do not want you to be more of a blooming git then you already are. Now get your arse to you house and rest. I will make sure the other nations hear your claims."

"England, you don't have to-"

"I want to. Please. Just go home. I will be there shortly to check up on you." England sighed and ushered the other nation out into the parking lot.

"Thanks." America said and got into his car, turning the key into the ignition.

"Oh shut up." England blushed and watched as the country he loved the most drive away. England made his way back into the building, wondering if America will be able to get home safely. Really, he was such a git himself. Falling in love with such a hopeless nation.

_I'm all yours. I'm all yours somehow..._

_Baby, don't stop now. _

America opened the door to his house and fumbled inside. He could have slept on the plane ride here, but he was too busy writing the papers to discuss peace. He wanted to make every claim logical and represent it in a way that they other nations could not say no to. It figures that it would take England to shove him away from the meeting and into rest. At the thought, Alfred stumbled up his steps and managed to get into his bedroom before he fell to one knee. He had been much tired before. Physically tired, anyway.

Through all the wars he fought, he would fight alongside his people. During WWI, he fought in the trenches. He fought in the fields, the swamps, the camps. He had felt his mind go blank as he killed, like his mind was asleep but his body was still being controlled. His heart swelled at the memory, but it was true. He had been much more physically tried in the war then he ever had.

He remeberd after one day of fighting in several different trenches, he couldn't bring his legs to move. Brave...strong... invincible. That's what his army members saw. What his people saw of him. But, mentally, as he was now, had never happened to him so terribly. His mind strayed to a halt. No. That was a lie too. He had been mentally exhausted. Scared. Completely undone, really. When he had left England. It still hurt.

With a last sigh at his thoughts, Alfred crawled onto his bed and slammed his head onto his pillow. He didn't want to think about that anymore. He didn't want to think about war or England and defiantly not both of them in the same sentence. All he really wanted to think about was Russia. Russia. Ivan. Vanya. That's who he needed to think about. Forget everything else and just think...Ivan, and with that last thought, he feel to sleep.

When he woke up later, a still rather tired America would find England fussing over some kind of fabric laid out on America's couch. At first, Alfred could hardly get a look at it, till he gave his most dazzling smile over to England and asked if the older nation could make him something to eat, promptly causing Arthur's cheeks to flush and r toss the blanket back onto the couch and practically ran into the kitchen, stuttering on about how he would make something absolutely delicious. Smiling now, Alfred walked over the blanket and instantly remembered what it was. It was his favorite to sleep in over at Russia's house. Catching a patch of white on the navy colored material, he reached down to find a note left by Russia.

'Now there is no reason for you to be comfortable on the couch, da?'

_Now honey don't stop now._

_Yeah baby don't stop now._

**Translation: Сладкий Америке- Sweet America.  
_  
_I am sorry if Google Translate is incorrect.**


End file.
